


But I Make These High Heels Work

by pete_za



Series: WWTD (What Would They Do): Imagine Your OTP Like Never Before [11]
Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: F/M, Imagine your OTP, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Kink Meme, Nudity, Slice of Life, this is kind of a 'dont threaten me with a good time' au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 03:32:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5650999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pete_za/pseuds/pete_za
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Person B decides to surprise person A after they get home from a long day at work, so when person A walks into their bedroom, they are met with person B standing in front of the bed in nothing but a pair of platform heels.</p><p>Person A is caught off guard and is standing there blubbering so person B puts on their best smirk and goes to strut over to their partner when one of their heels snap and they go tumbling to the floor. Person A snaps out of it and rushes over to person B on the floor, person B’s ankle swells up to the size of their leg, and person B just sits there shrieking about how expensive those shoes were.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But I Make These High Heels Work

**Author's Note:**

> i rarely ever write het fic but i really really love sarah and brendon so here you go

Brendon Urie, to say the least, was a fantastic husband. He even had a mug to prove it. ‘ _Brendon Urie, World’s Most Fantastic Husband’_ was emblazoned on the side of a mug Sarah gifted him on their last anniversary. Bren took the titles given to him very seriously. Because his band wasn’t touring at the moment, he was stuck at home doing loads of nothing: Periscoping occasionally, smoking the dankest weed, and drinking imported beer. And for once, almost like their roles were reversed, Sarah was the one who was busy as hell, and stressed out to make deadlines. Brendon figured that it was his time to shine like the fantastic husband he was. Sarah needed to de-stress, and he knew what the perfect destresser was. Sex. Kinky sex. He knows what Sarah likes because he is the _best_ husband.

 

On a weekday night when Sarah had to work later than usual, she strode into an dark and empty house. No dogs barking, no TV blaring, no lights. Just silence. And because Sarah put up with Brendon’s shit 24/7, she knew something was up.

 

“Brendon?” She called, walking around their house, flicking on lights as she went. “Babe? You home?”

 

Sarah shrugged to herself. ‘ _Maybe he isn’t home_ ,’ she thought. She yawned and walked to the master bedroom so she could get some rest and prepare herself for another long day, but the bedroom door was shut. Which was weird.

 

“Brendon?” She asked again, opening the door to her room and peeking in. “Brend–

 

“Hey baby.” Brendon grinned from his lounge on their bed wearing nothing but a pair of black platform heels. Sarah’s tired expression was replaced with a shocked blush.

 

Seeing her inability to produce words, Brendon strode over to his wife as seductively as he could manage. If he could wear skintight leather pants on stage for hours at a time, he could do this. But as he strode over to Sarah one of the stiletto heels beneath him twisted and snapped from under him and he went tumbling to the floor.

 

“Oh my God Brendon!” Sarah shrieked upon seeing the tragedy before her, “My heels! Those were _expensive_!”

 

“Your _heels_? What about my _ankle_!” Brendon complained, as he lay completely naked on the floor with an ankle that had swollen up to the size of his calf.

 

“They were one of a kind!”

 

“You’ve only worn them once!”

 

“And now I only will wear them once.”

 

It was going to be a long night, and not in a way either of them had planned.


End file.
